He took a few restless steps. “I am worried,” he answered, “and more, I have news which must trouble you.”
She rose to her feet and stood looking at him, her eyes full of a vague apprehension, yet scarcely fear. “Geoffrey,” she said in a low, steady voice, “tell me: tell me at once.”
He hesitated a moment as though calculating the danger of the shock. Then he spoke.
“Paul Gastineau——”
“Gastineau?” She almost gasped, and her face went white.
“Is alive.”
“Ah!” Her lips closed tightly. The effort was to steady herself and realize what the news portended. With characteristic delicacy Herriard waited in silence. In that moment he would not emphasize, he dared not soften, the import of the news.
“You have seen him?” she asked at length.
He nodded. Then came near, took her in his arms and kissed her. “My darling! Mine!” he murmured.
“Geoffrey, tell me,” she said.